Coming Attractions Read Online Free PDF Page B

sophistication. Amid a darkened background, a movie projector shone over her left shoulder, and her intense eyes studied the unseen screen in front of her.
    “Not bad,” she said and allowed herself the indulgence of imagining awakening to such a woman.
    She studied the photograph longer. Finely carved facial features, sharp angles of cheek and jaw, all added depth to Jodie’s eyes. Stacey had pointed out the small crease at the tip of the Foster nose. Stacey!
    Helen tore her thoughts away from the image on the wall. Stacey. Last night. A dream. She thought harder. The club. Stacey had handed her a green drink. M something. A martini? A Manhattan? No.
    All dreams had meaning. Helen threw back the blankets and grabbed the phone from her nightstand. She poked in Stacey’s number.
    “What?” Stacey growled.
    “Good morning.”
    “Blondie?”
    “I need to see you.” Helen sprang from her bed and headed toward the bathroom.
    Stacey groaned. “I just got in three hours ago.”
    “You can sleep later,” Helen said and turned on the shower. “I’ll be there at eleven.” She adjusted the water temperature.
    “Use your key,” she grumbled.
    *
    Stacey’s apartment was located in what had once been a garment manufacturing building. The building now held private residences. She’d gutted the loft and turned it into an exotic showroom of thick carpets, mounds of prime-color pillows, foliage to make a botanist weak at the knees, and bright Warhol silk screens that lined the walls: Judy, Marilyn, Ingrid, Chanel No. 5, and more, but no Campbell’s soup cans.
    Helen closed the front door and headed for the kitchen. She brewed fresh coffee and, while Mr. Coffee completed his task, hand-squeezed eight oranges before she’d extracted enough juice and pulp for a decent serving. She wouldn’t attempt that again for love, money, or even a Pulitzer Prize.
    She’d purchased a yellow rose from a sidewalk vendor and placed the flower on the tray with her peace offering. At the bedroom door, she first peeked in to be sure Stacey was alone.
    “Hey, you.” No response. She entered the room and set the tray on a nearby chair and then sat on the edge of the bed. Stacey still gripped the phone and Helen returned it to its base. “Hey,” she repeated and ran her fingers in quick patterns through Stacey’s short, ash-blond hair. Stacey grunted.
    “Why am I awake?” She rolled onto her back.
    Helen pulled up the sheet to cover Stacey’s breasts. “Because I need to talk to you.”
    “This is a nightmare.” She pushed herself up and through sleepy, bloodshot eyes, focused on Helen. She managed a smile. “Blondie.”
    “I’ve missed you.” Helen wrapped her arms around Stacey and squeezed.
    “You just wanted to see me naked.” She returned the hug.
    “I’ve seen you naked. I wasn’t impressed.”
    “No? Why not?”
    “You have teeny tiny boobs.”
    Stacey let the cover fall away from her chest. She looked down at her breasts and pushed at the side of one. “Almost a C cup. They’re good boobs.”
    “Teeny tiny. At least for my liking.” Helen gave Stacey a quick kiss on her lips.
    “Nice mouth. I can’t think of a better way to wake up.”
    “You have no imagination.”
    “That’s why you write and I run a bar.” Stacey fell backward, onto the mattress. “Go away now.”
    “Get up, you bum.”
    Trying her best to rouse Stacey, Helen bounced and shook the bed, but hadn’t expected to find herself suddenly flipped onto her back with Stacey straddling her and pinning her hands behind her head.
    “I like this advantage.” Stacey beamed as she looked down at Helen.
    “You’re the one without clothes. I could have my way with you.”
    “Take me. Break me. Make me a woman.” She released Helen’s hands and rolled to her back. “Please?”
    “You know, you really are a pig sometimes.” Helen slapped Stacey on the hip, but fully expected a comment of that nature from her. “It isn’t any wonder you